What’s the collective noun for writers?

I joined a writing group yesterday. Not a comfort-of-your-own-home, mug of tea in one hand, cat on your knee kind of online group like the Telegraph Short Story Club (which regular visitors will know I’ve been a part of for a couple of years) but an actual group of people in a room, talking. Not my forte (who’d have thought that of someone with degrees in maths and physics?), but thankfully the gathering was friendly and varied. There was an interesting mix of poetry, flash fiction, short story, novella, novel and non-fiction works in progress, for children and adults, by those with agents, the published, the self-published, and enthusiastic hobbyists. Some compulsive and prolific, others waiting for that boot up the backside to get going. The aim is to meet monthly and prove to each other we’ve actually written something in the meantime.

I’ll have to stop there because OneMonkey has just declared that the world’s a better place for the existence of Twisted Sister and I need to check if he’s sickening for something…

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